Just Write {67}

January 7, 2013

{That’s right, after a two week vacation, Just Write is back. Please free write the details of your moments along with me and link up at the end of this post.}

I parked and walked Miles into school this morning. Instead of dropping him at the curb, I skipped that line and parked and crossed across the parking lot with him. As we walked I jokingly asked him if he wanted a pretend hug or a real hug, in front of everyone.

He stifled a laugh and and drew out his response. Mooooom. He can’t be caught hugging me, or laughing at my hilarious jokes. No way.

Okay, I’m going to go now, I said. I tried to push away that feeling that always hits me when he walks toward the school without me. On the drive home I thought about how I know the way so well. There are so many potholes, so I maneuver around, a little to the left, back to center, a little the right, to avoid the thump thump of the wheels bumping down and up again. I thought about how many little things like that are a part of the days at school. How Miles walks the halls and knows his way, knows who he wants to walk with and what to avoid.

This is how we learn, by going, doing.

Back home, I rushed around and got ready to drive the two hours to the Twin Cities. I know that path so well, too. I hung signs with the Listen To Your Mother logo across the top all around the suburbs and St. Paul. I would stand back at each library and coffee shop, community center and store, to look at that sign. Those signs are there to let people know that submissions are open, and I look and smile. I probably looked a little crazy, staring at the sign I just pinned to the bulletin board, smiling.

All different roads to all different places and all of their stories. I drove through our old neighborhood and felt that feeling I get when I’m there. Like I’ve left something behind and it doesn’t make any sense that I don’t know remember where the potholes are. I used to know.

We’re in this shifting stage, a knowing that we’re about to experience a change, preparing to sell our house after over three years here. So much has happened. We’re feeling so ready to move back to our other home, somewhere in the Twin Cities. I drove all over today, relearning the way, a little to the right and a little to the left and back to center. I came home a little mixed up. So ready to see my family and full of memories of another time. The unknown was sitting squarely in the midst of all of it and anticipation too.

In the last moments of my drive home, I remembered not to worry about Next, or to think too hard about Before. I turned into the driveway and the door flung open with Miles popping out. Moooommmy, he said, while hopping a little, a big grin on his face.

A little to the left…a little to the right…back to center.


This is the 67th installment of Just Write, an exercise in free writing your ordinary and extraordinary moments. {Please see the details here.} I would love to read your freely written words so join me and link up below. You can add the url of your post at any time. Just be sure it’s a link to your Just Write post, not to your main page, and please don’t link to posts that are not freely written in the spirit of capturing moments–you know, don’t link to how-to lists or sponsored posts. I am far from a jerk, but I want people to remember that this is about writing and not about traffic. If you’re linking to everything you’ve found to link to that day, you probably are not fulfilling the requirements of each link-up. Also,  please link back to this post in your post so people know where to go if they’d like to join in. (Any links not following those two guidelines will be deleted.) (Please don’t make me delete stuff because it feels mean.) 

Also. Please take a moment to visit someone else who has linked up! It’s a really good way to meet new writers and get inspired by the meaning behind their moments. Word? Thank you!

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